Breaking the Habit
by Oneturtledove
Summary: Stopping the cycle of silence. Post-Milagro
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Uh-huh

Disclaimer: Uh-huh.

Spoilers: Milagro, basically.

A/N: Okay... I am not a part of the "Scully didn't have any wounds after her encounter with the Ken dude" club. Because if you punch a hole in a wall and die as you're punching the hole, it still leaves some damage. Right? Anyway, there are about 10 episodes that it seems everyone has to write a post-ep of, and this is my second or third attempt at Milagro. We'll see how it goes.

She clung to him tightly until the paramedics came, but even then she wouldn't let his hand go. The medics took her pulse and checked her other vitals, but the moment they moved to tend to her injuries, she pulled away.

"Scully," Mulder began, in his quiet, just-for-her tone. "They just need to make sure you're okay."

"No, I'm fine," she argued, trying to sit up. "I'm fine."

Mulder gently pushed her shoulders back down on the couch.

"Just a quick look, Scully. I'll be right here," he said trying to read her expression. "Or I can go in the other room if you'd rather."

She was about to respond when there was a knock on the door.

"Go ahead," she whispered. He nodded and went to the door while the EMT's took care of his partner.

After finding Padgett dead in the basement, taking a few pictures of the crime scene for posterity, and getting Mulder's promise that he and Scully would give their statements later, the police officers left. Mulder returned to the other room where Scully was arguing with the EMT's.

"I'm a doctor. I know the risks, and I'll be fine."

"But Miss Scully-"

"I don't need to go to the hospital."

"She'll be fine," Mulder interjected, sensing that Scully was about to go into one of her famous emotional shut downs.

"Sir, she's got wounds-"

"And unless she's still losing blood, which she's not because she's knows better than that when she's on my couch, she can take care of herself. I will take her to the hospital if there are any complications."

Knowing that they weren't going to win an argument with the pair, the EMT's gave them the necessary paperwork, and left the building.

Scully sat with her shirt unbuttoned, but tucked around her thin frame.

"Are you really going to be okay, Scully?"

"It hurts," she admitted quietly.

"What can I do for you?"

"I need to get cleaned up. And I need to go home. Can... you help me?"

He nodded and sat down next to her, brushing her matted hair back from her face.

"I'll find you some more clothes, and you can shower, okay? And then I'll take you home."

"Thanks."

He stood from the couch and went into his bedroom, finding an old, shrunken pair of sweats in the bottom drawer of his dresser. It would probably swallow her, even in its smaller state. He had been noticing lately how small she really was. Short, sure, he'd always known that, but during that case in Arcadia, he's seen her out of the bulky suits and in slightly less bulky cardigans and semi-casual slacks. And a few weeks after that he had witnessed a rarity- Scully in jeans and a t-shirt. He could have put his hands around her waist and had about an inch of finger overlap. Maybe she was losing weight or maybe he'd just never paid close enough attention. Or maybe she was losing weight because he'd never paid close enough attention. He sighed at the thought and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Scully? I got some clothes for you. I'll leave them by the sink."

"Okay," she called back, her voice strained.

"I can run down to your car and get your overnight bag if there's anything you need in there-"

"No! I have everything."

He shut the door and went into the living room, surveying the mess. He knew he should clean it up before she saw it, but he just didn't think he could deal with it right now. He placed a large dishrag over the stain on the floor and made a mental note to call in a favor to the Lone Gunmen. They were still sore at him for the way he had treated Scully months ago, but he was sure that since this involved her, they would be inclined to help him out. He smirked as he thought of the three odd-balls, and how their loyalty had flip-flopped almost 180 degrees from him to Scully in the last few years. She could ask them for anything and they would do it for her, while he had to scrounge up tickets to a game, or a couple hundred dollars.

He heard the shower go off and a few minutes later she joined him on the couch, dressed in his old sweats. He looked over at her and she met his eyes.

"I want to go home," she said after a moment of quiet communication.

"Okay. I think your tennis shoes are still in the bottom of my closet from that time..." He trailed off and they both let their minds wander to that Saturday afternoon almost a year ago. A warm spring day had turned into a rainstorm right in the middle of their 5 mile run. They had made it back to his apartment, soaking wet and laughing. She smiled a little as she thought about it, then went into his bedroom to retrieve the shoes.


	2. Chapter 2

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Disclaimer: Not even close.

A/N: There will be more, I promise.

This chapter is for my dear sissy Jessi because she is leaving soon and I will miss her. Even though I always miss her, but she knows what I mean. _I love you JayRay and I am very, very proud of you! Hugs, grapes, and S.O.D.A.! (also grape soda spat across the cafeteria table and onto your white shirt.) Love, RayJay_

* * *

The drive to her apartment was silent. She stared out the window the whole way, watching the rain make trails on the glass. Mulder glanced over at her occasionally, made a few attempts to start a conversation, but he kept changing his mind. He wasn't sure how this was going to go. Either he would get her home and she would clam up, or he would get her home and she would clam up and send him away. Whatever happened, she always clammed up and they never spoke about the ordeal again. Maybe it was time to break that certain habit in their relationship. Just how they were going to do that, he wasn't sure.

He unlocked her door for her and she walked inside with a sigh.

"Scully you need some rest."

"I know. I'm going to go lay down. Can you... can you call Christine?"

"Sure," he nodded, keeping his eyes on her. Christine was her friend from med-school, and they often called her to tend to their injuries when they didn't feel like going to the hospital. "What do you need her to bring?"

"Just tell her I might need stitches-"

"Stitches? Scully, you should have gone to the doctor."

"No, it's okay. I don't really need stitches, I just think the wounds will heal better if they're stitched rather than butterflied."

"Did you at least let the EMT's put gauze or something on it?"

"Of course I did. Would you please just call Christine?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I got after you."

"It's alright. You're worried."

"Go lay down, Scully. I'll call Christine."

"Thank you."

He made the call quickly, the joined her in the bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, and he could tell from her posture that she was in pain.

"Scully?"

"Um... it really hurts," she admitted.

He ran his fingers through her hair and helped her to lay down against her pillows.

"Christine will be here in 20 minutes. Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so."

He sat down next to her with a sigh.

"Scully?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because. I just don't."

"You never want to talk to me about this stuff."

"Mulder, that's because you always start to feel guilty. You always turn it into a pity party about how it wouldn't have happened to me if I wasn't your partner. You beat yourself up and start talking about how everything bad that has ever happened to me is your fault and not only do you not deserve it, it makes me remember all that bad stuff. I don't like talking to you about this because frankly, you can't handle it. I have other ways that I deal with stuff and I don't need you."

"I see," he said after a long moment, standing up from the bed and leaving the room. "I'll let Christine in and I'll be out of here."

"Mulder, knock it off! I didn't mean that the way it sounded and you know it."

"Then how did you mean it, Scully?"

"I need you here. I need you with me. But I can't talk to you when you start playing the martyr. I hate watching you beat yourself up. It only makes me feel worse. If you would help me get through things or just simply listen to me, I would talk to you. But as it is now and as it's been in the past, I can't do it. I want to. Believe me, I want nothing more than to talk to you and tell you everything I think and feel about this. I just... I can't now."

He sighed and sat down next to her again.

"What if I promise to just listen?"

"If you can really do that, Mulder, then we can talk."

He smiled and squeezed her hand.

"I'll work on it."

There was a knock on the door and he stood up.

"I'll let her in. And I'll be out on the couch if you need me. Okay?"

"Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ahhh, I feel so much better now.

* * *

Mulder sat on the couch alone while Christine went into the bedroom to take care of Scully. Quite honestly, he had been taken aback at Scully's declaration about his self pity. He knew he had a penchant for that, he just didn't know it was so obvious to her that it was a hindrance to their friendship. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out how to make her trust him with her emotions. Maybe he would just have to be silent and let her speak until she was done. Or maybe he would simply have to brush this one under the carpet and wait until the next stroke of bad luck to see if she would open up to him.

Christine came out of the bedroom about half an hour later. She silently sat down next to him on the couch.

"How is she?"

"She's fine. They're just superficial wounds and they bled a lot, but she's going to have to watch them for the next few days. They could get infected. And I want you to keep an eye on her too. She could go into shock. What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I wasn't... I wasn't exactly there when it happened."

She nodded and stood up.

"I gave her some pain killers too. They're mild, but make sure she only takes one pill every four hours."

"Did she talk to you much?"

"No. She just sat there. She was just... well, she was very Dana about the whole thing. I didn't expect any different."

"Thanks, Christine."

"Let me know if you guys need anything else."

She let herself out of the apartment and Mulder went into the kitchen for a glass of water.

"Scully, are you thirsty?"

"No," she said, just loud enough for him to hear. He sighed and poured her a glass of water anyway.

He found her curled up on her right side on her bed, facing the door. He put both glasses of water down on the night-stand, then lay down next to her.

"Feeling better?"

"A little, yeah."

"Is there anything you need?"

She shook her head slightly, then looked up to meet his eyes.

"Will you help me fall asleep?"

He smiled and scooted closer, putting his arm around her so he could rub her back. This was the only comfort she allowed herself to accept from him (and only on very rare occasions), but it was still more than she took from anyone else. She sighed softly and closed her eyes, willing her hands to stop their shaking.

"Scully?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry that I don't listen to you. I'm not very good at listening to anyone."

"Yes, you are Mulder. Just not me," she argued, not opening her eyes.

"Why do you say that?"

"I've watched you with suspects and victims and other agents. And while most of the time you discount what people say, you also actively listen to them. You make eye contact and you don't interrupt and you ask them more questions to get at the heart of what they're saying. You don't do that with me. You hear what I say, but you never pay very close attention. Sometimes talking to you seems like a waste of time. I hate feeling like anything with you is a waste of time. So I just avoid it altogether."

"I'm so sorry," he said after a long pause. "You're my best friend, and I don't ever want to make you feel like I don't care."

"I know that."

"I going to try to do better, I promise."

"Okay."

"And you know you can tell me anything. I won't hold things against you."

"I know."

"Is that another reason why you don't talk to me? You think that I might resent you or look at you differently?"

She was quiet for a long time, sighing before opening her eyes and finally meeting his gaze.

"No, Mulder. I know you won't and I've known that for a long time. It's just that... sometimes it's hard to be vulnerable."

"Even with me?"

"Especially with you."

"Why?"

She sighed and shrugged.

"I honestly don't know. Maybe it's because we're so vulnerable in our trust with each other that being open and transparent in other things is just overload. Maybe it's the subconscious telling me that I need to distance myself a little bit. You and I are so connected to each other, sometimes I lose myself in you. It's like there always an "us" or "Mulder and Scully," but there's never just Mulder or just Scully. Does that even make any sense?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Even people who are married and have families and only see each other in the evenings still need time apart. You can't go your whole life identifying yourself through another person, just as you can't go on pretending you're someone else. It's kind of the same as when you were in high school and everyone called you "Bill's little sister." It bugged the crap out of you didn't it?"

"Yes, but mostly because I don't like Bill."

He laughed and gave her a little squeeze.

"We can work on this, Scully. Maybe we can take some time apart, and maybe we can even go to a communication seminar."

She giggled at that one.

"Let's not get too drastic here," she said, resting her hand on his arm. "Let's just make it a point to talk to each other like this on a regular basis. Not when it's triggered by something, but just on our own because we want to. And maybe work stuff will come up and maybe it won't, but at least we're talking."

"Deal. And please, when I start pouting and sulking, make your scary face and remind me that it's not all about me. I need that every once in a while."

"I can definitely do that."

"Do you need anything from me?"

"Just this," she said, gesturing to their positions, which had gotten much closer over the last fifteen minutes.

He nodded and kissed her forehead.

"Get some sleep, okay?"

"Will you stay in here for a little while?"

"Until you kick me out."

"Thank you, Mulder."


End file.
